A Little Consideration… Echos of Cuba’s History on the Malecón

Last updated on August 2, 2025 by Shannon

The thunderclouds hung low for hours over Havana, Cuba before Louise and I decided enough was enough. If the rain was playing a game of chicken with us then we planned to spend the afternoon exploring historic Havana instead of hiding indoors in anticipation of the thick sheets of rain that had, for six long and cold days, stalked us around the island.

We bundled ourselves into our rain jackets, twisted our cameras safely into zip-lock baggies, and set out on foot to walk Old Downtown Havana (la Habana Vieja) and Cuba’s famousMalecón.

In Search of History in Havana

The Malecón has always elicited evocative images seared into my memory from Hollywood films—a woman decked out in heels and a full, knee-length, low-cut dress, sexy and full red lips, bright colors, and a man standing at her side as she gracefully perches on the waist-high guardrail.

Those images were so tangible in my mind there was little hope anything could live up to Hollywood’s spin, so I left our casa particular free of those assumptions. Instead, I was open-minded about what the city would allow us to uncover in a single day of exploration around Old Town and the Malecón.

You see, I have a mixed relationship with Cuba; I arrived with little besides clichéd film images, decent Spanish, and a spotty understanding of political history. I left Cuba under-whelmed by the big picture and less than enthusiastic about this Caribbean “playground” for the non-Americans. On the other hand, I was alternately fascinated by the Cuban culture I could view from afar.

Armed with nothing more than a general walking direction, my friend and I meandered our way toward Old Havana, a beautifully restored UNESCO World Heritage site.

Our 20 minute walk took us through Cuban neighborhoods and past hyper local shops. We walked to see and observe, unsure of how we would know that we had arrived in Old Town.

How naive.

I knew the instant I entered “Old Havana.” The streets shifted from graffitied walls, piles of trash, and crumbling buildings to hand-sculpted 1950s architecture artfully holding together the restored downtown.

Old Havana’s shabbiness was an aesthetic choice built by-design, rather than an accurate reflection of the poor maintenance infrastructure seen throughout the rest of the city—and the rest of Cuba for that matter.

The streets Old Havana echo with history; the tall buildings filtered the weak sunlight as we enter small stores, perused the Afro-Cubano artwork wedged into tiny nooks, and discovered tiny shops so small your peripheral vision and a sixth sense are all that alert you to these nearly-hidden nuggets of locally-made tourist paraphernalia.

As sunshine peeped out from the clouds, I wasn’t the only tourist catching sight of a beautifully restored car from the 1950s and sizing up the best photo angle and opportunity.

The streets of Old Havana are a maze of history and I found myself lost in musings as we walked; Havana pulsed with a different energy than any city I had ever visited before. There was a flavor to the city, a spice just under the surface I could sense but not fully identify.

And then I stepped out from the shadow of the buildings and onto Havana’s El Malecón, a long esplanade curving alongside the water, artfully shaping Havana’s skyline into a curvy, smooth ribbon of colors and shapes.

Why is the Malecón Important to Cuba?

Strolling along the Malecón at sunset, I was captivated by the essence of this iconic 8-kilometer waterfront boulevard, a symbol of the city’s heart and soul. Even on an overcast day inviting fewer people to the water’s edge, I witnessed the vibrant cultural melting pot that the Malecón embodies.

The construction of this historic promenade, initiated in 1901 and completed over several decades, reveals a timeline of Havana’s architectural evolution. Walking past the diverse array of buildings, from Art Deco to Neo-Moorish, is like traversing through different eras of the city’s rich history.

The Malecón, originally built as a seawall, stood as a testament to the city’s resilience against the ferocious waves of the Caribbean, especially during storms. This physical barrier has been a witness to many significant events, from political protests to grand celebrations, embedding itself deeply in Cuba’s historical narrative.

As the evening deepened, the sounds of street musicians and the chatter of locals and tourists alike created an atmosphere of lively camaraderie. The Malecón, more than just a boulevard, is a stage for everyday life in Havana, where stories unfolded at every corner.

And while there are distinctly Cuban elements to the Malecón, sitting on that wall I thought: I’ve been here before. I’ve seen this exact moment—experienced the askew smiles from school children running home before the rains.

I have observed an elderly couple holding hands while looking wistfully toward the coast of Key West, Florida a mere 90 miles north—a coastline currently obscured by the stormy weather, but often visible on a clear day from the Malecón.

The USA, my home. It’s a country so close in proximity to Cuba, but miles away in terms of nearly every other aspect of life: politics, culture, language, food—all of these differences were painted in clear delineations with every footstep I took along the sidewalk.

Internal musings took a break when I was confronted with the distinctly odd sense of humor of the Cuban man sedately collecting bits of garbage from the sidewalks; why do you reckon the garbage collector chose to deck out his wheeled garbage cans with plastic dolls smoking cigarettes and holding machine-gun lollipops?

This is one of those questions I wished I had asked, a story I wish I knew. Instead I have an odd photo, a moment captured in time but no explanation.

The Malecón was subdued that day; perhaps the storms contained the masses. Cuba is the most populated island in the Caribbean. Just over 11 million people call the country home, and yet, on a cold and rainy February day we found pure tranquility and solitude on Havana’s Malecón.

Over and over again I find myself murmuring “Well, gee, this looks a lot like insert city name here .”

And that’s how I felt about El Malecón in Cuba; the similarities echo to esplanades and wide waterside-walking-paths the world over.

Cuba’s Malecón was one of those moments; globally connected in it’s very nature: people the world over are called to a waterfront, called to the calming presence of a cool breeze, a far-reaching ocean ending in a new place, and the tranquil beauty of a wide open space.

But yet there was a glimmer of newness, Cuba’s Old City and the Malecón were inherently different because of the people populating the pathways, the unique smiles and stories on each face I passed.